Jelly Beans


keira_icon.gif russo_icon.gif



Scene Title Jelly Beans
Synopsis The cousins finally meet in a little clinic, and find plenty of common ground.
Date December 19, 2010

A little clinic near K Studios

Sunbeams enter the little clinic just outside K Studios as the early morning light filters in through the large side windows. The clinic has been open for several hours already, and has brought in quite the growing crowd. Among them, pressing an ice pack firmly to his nose, and to the bottom of his eyes, Bradley Russo leans back in the chair. His feet are planted on the floor and his suit jacket is completely askew.

Next to him? Kristen's blonde assistant nurses a similar ice pack, only his is explicably laid upon his left eye. "You have a mean right hook," the blonde man whines to the host.

"And you need to stop riding your fu— " Brad catches himself mid-word as he glances around. Children. Lots of them. With a roll of his eyes and a low pitched growl in the back of his throat, his head shakes tightly. "— your effing— " yup effing "— scooter through the studio! K is going to kill you if you actually broke my nose." His blue eyes clamp shut as she shifts in the chair.

"Awwww c'mon, you got even! This shiner is gonna get you in trouble— "

"It was a reaction! I was in Fight Club— "

"Ooooo. I'm shaking in my fluffy ugg boots," which, for the record, Dirk is actually wearing, "Number one rule, buddy…"I'm shaking in my fluffy Ugg boots," which, for the record, Dirk is actually wearing, "Number one rule, buddy…" His voice lowers to a dramatic whisper while his beady eyes widen, "You can't talk about it."

Broken ribs are a pain in the ass. While it's been two weeks since she unceremoniously demolished her cousin's place of work (unknowingly, of course), and her bruises and cuts have mostly healed to the point where she doesn't look like she's been in a fist fight, her ribs are still giving her trouble. Breathing too much hurts. Laughing hurts. Coughing and sneezing hurt. And there's quite literally nothing that can be done, save for taking pain pills.

Which is exactly why Keira is here. With no more bruises to explain, she can just say that she fell about two weeks ago and has been having chest pain ever since. It's not entirely untrue, really. She did kind of fall…with pieces of a building falling on top of her.

So, she sits in a chair one down from Russo, wearing a pair of tight jeans, some boots with fur trim, and a nice warm jacket. She looks like she'd rather not be in the waiting room, and she really would rather be somewhere else. But, hey, drugs are drugs, and she can afford it right now.

In any case, this enables her to scope out potential clients. Like the suited man who she recognizes as the totally gorgeous host from The Advocate. Blue eyes peer toward Brad's face, brows arched. He looks like he could use some drugs, and she has better drugs than what they can get here. However, in a waiting room full of children (one thing Keira never was fond of), she's not about to approach him directly.

Dirk turns to face Brad, his eyebrows escalating on his forehead. "Oooooo. Jelly beans~ I left my JELLY BEANS in the office! I need them!"

Behind his ice pack, Russo just blinks in response, wholly unsure of HOW to respond to that. "Uh… okay?" He presses the ice firmer against his nose, which is still bloodied from his Dirk-collision and he opens his mouth to speak, but before the next words are put out there, Dirk is gone. Awesome. "Seriously. Some days I wonder…" he murmurs to himself and glances about the waiting room, flashing various people who are staring at him the most winning smile he can manage. This will be really great for their ratings later.

He purses his lips together as his gaze falls on Keira, who is actually the closest person in proximity. As if to answer some unspoken question, "He didn't hit me. Just so you know; he couldn't. He just like… ran into me and stuff. And then I hit him… I swear I would've ducked if he had hit me… just sayin'."

Keira watches the exchange with an interested look writ on her features, her brows raised up in question of Dirk's sanity. This guy has a black eye and he's worried about Jelly Beans? Keira smirks, shaking her head and running her hand through her hair as Dirk is gone.

And then, Russo is casting a dazzling smile around the room, and then he's talking to her. Her brows raise slightly in surprise, before a grin replaces the surprise, and she offers a soft laugh. "Oh, you don't have to explain yourself t'me, honey." Quietly, the woman examines Russo, brows raised as she compares his face in person to his face on TV.

"Looks like it was an interesting story, though. They have makeup that can cover up bruises and stuff. Here, let me see that, I can tell you what the doctors will tell you." She leans a little closer, raising a hand in an attempt to get him to lower the ice pack for a moment, examining to see if his nose is broken. She has experience with these things, having grown up as a gangster's girl, and then turning into a gangster herself.

"Yeaaaaah… I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for that off chance it's broken…" Brad slowly lowers the ice pack. His nose itself is bloodied, and will likely be bruised, but it doesn't seem crooked. "I used to— " he smirks with a bright flash of straight white teeth, "— I had a misspent youth. I got in a lot of scraps for awhile so this isn't new. And while I don't think it's broken— the fact that it happened at work and the off chance it is…" he makes a funny nonchalant noise in the back of his throat.

Craning his neck, he inspects her carefully. "So what are you in for? Ha! Sorry, I just realized how much that must sound like prison talk." With a quick wink, he shifts in his seat and lowers the ice pack to his lap, leaving it there to chill his leg for no reason other than, it's a convenient place to leave it.

"It's a story. Interesting or not I can spin it later if should need to."

Keira quietly examines Russo's nose, her brows arching slightly. "Oh, that's nothin'. You clean yourself out with some saline solution and cover it up with some stage makeup, and you'll be lookin' handsome as ever. Don't think it's broken." A faint grin, and she's slipping out of her jacket, revealing…tattoos. Lots of them. It's a bit warm, and a kid is screaming nearby. Ew, kids.

"Hah, broken ribs. I fell a few weeks ago, just thought I bruised m'self up. It's been two weeks and it ain't stop hurtin' since." And now that she's gone and registered herself like a good little girl, she can come to the doctor. "So I decided to ponder the idea of pain killers. Pretty sure I have a few cracked ribs." She chuckles. Doesn't seem like she's in pain, at least.

At his mention of the story, the tattooed woman smirks. "I've seen you on TV. I bet you could spin a pretty funny story out of it. Sounds like one of those 'not funny when it happens, but hilarious after th'fact' stories."

"Been there," Brad cringes just a little, but manages a broad grin and a shake of his head, "Wouldn't want to live through that again." He winks and then sighs, still managing that smile. "And the doctor has some good stuff when needed." Drumming his fingers along the arm of his chair, he shrugs, there's little passivity in the posture, "I can spin with the best of them. It's one of my best qualities. Maybe the best. But then, anything can be funny if it happened to someone else, right?"

Again he shoots her that positively charming smile. "Sometimes, you know, being on TV hardly seems fair. You know who I am…" two fingers raise to his temple into an official salute, "Bradley Russo. Call me Brad. And you are?" He blinks as he eyes her tattoos a little closer. "So how many do you have? Sleeves? Everywhere? Lots of color? Do you have a favorite? You know the tattoo thing is one of those things I haven't gone and done as of yet. Maybe one day. If I ever think of something worth keeping on my body forever."

The tattooed woman raises a brow. Oh, so he's had broken ribs! Maybe he's not such a wimpy TV show host after all. "Yeah…I have better stuff, but the stuff they give me here is good too." A smirk. "Well, maybe you can test the grounds on me." A similarly charming smile is coupled with a wink to Russo. "I'm a pretty good audience, sometimes.

His questions prompt a small chuckle to come from the girl, who makes an effort not to laugh too hard. "Keira Fionn. You can just call me Keira. Don't call me Kee, though, I hate nicknames like that." She casts another charming grin to him. "I have them all over my body. My fave is my back piece. Took me forever to get it done, but it was well worth it, and I love it. Only places that aren't covered are here," she gestures toward her chest, "and here." A gesture toward her lower half.

Then, she offers a chuckle. "I'm a tat artist, m'self. If you ever think of something, let me know, I like t'think I do good pieces. I've done all of my friends' tats." She runs a hand through her hair, glancing around the room for a moment. So many kids here, so much time to wait, and here she's found some good conversation.

She scoots closer, suddenly, leaning up to whisper into Russo's ear. "Let's get out of here. I got shit that's way better than anything a doc can give you, and y'don't have to wade through sick kids t'get it."

"Keira. Got it. No Kee… no Eira… But…" He cringes slightly as his head shakes, "You need to know something about me. I will rename you. And it won't even be a name. It'll be whatever I choose for you in due time. Frankly, I want to call you Tats, but that might be misheard from some and I don't need the world thinking I'm calling a random stranger… never mind." He manages a broader smile at the notion of it.

"And yeah, if I think of something maybe I'll have you ink it on. Where do you work out of? Somewhere in Manhattan or— ?" He glances around the room now, a flicker of a smile at the kids and a mildly confused twitch at the whisper. The twitch easily grows into an all-on grin as he stands to his feet and offers her a hand. "C'mon… I'll take you out for breakfast. Or something. And you can repay the favor?" his eyebrows arch expectantly. Of course,t he repaid favor in this case is a replenished stock…

Keira has to stifle a laugh, instead snickering behind her hand at Russo's remark. "Yeah, we'll avoid that name. But you have permission to rename me at some point. If it's anything too offensive, I'll be sure to let you know." A grin. She likes this dude already. He's funny. "And I may return th'favor and give you a new name at some point."

The grin on her face only grows larger. "I'm all over the place." She takes his hand, raising to her feet and pulling her coat back on. To hell with this stressful environment. There's a reason she avoids the doctors. Definitely not a kid person, Keira. "I'm sure I can manage that." A smirk is on her face. This is, after all, her job, and she has a nice, freshly replenished stock in preparations for the holidays. Everybody likes to get messed up over the holidays. "How 'bout Denny's? I could go for a stack of pancakes."

She begins toward the door, buttoning her coat as she goes.

"Excelllllent, I live for that! Not enough people even try to rename me! Besides I think it's better to have unique names for people instead of what everyone else calls them." Brad winks and cringes a little. "Bastard," he murmurs while look towards the door, "That guy I was with— he was riding a scooter at work down the hall and crashed into me. It was… not cool. I decked him." He grins at the last bit.

"Denny's sounds good to me~" Russo virtually sings. "C'mon we can take my car. Stella was crashed into and they gave me this crap rental while I choose something new. I'm thinking of a truck. Is that awesome or lame?"

Keira smirks up at the much taller Russo, laughing faintly. "I'll be happy to figure one out for you, then." She chuckles faintly, glad to step outside of the office. Whiny, snotty kids are definitely not her forte, and legal drugs are definitely not worth the crap. "Sounds like an accident waiting t'happen. I don't blame you, man, I probably woulda jumped the guy m'self." She shakes her head slowly.

"Trucks are fairly awesome. I dunno, I like muscle cars, m'self. Loud and fast. You can feel the power you're sittin' on. But at th'same time, they're sleek. Sexy." The girl grins up to Russo. "Get you a big truck with a powerful engine, though, and it's almost equally awesome."

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